Tumblr Prompt Fills
by cassielouwho
Summary: -I won nothing- Collection of one-shots and suck prompted by tumblr
1. Resolutions

A/N-Tumblr Prompt-Jemma x Ward = Celebrating the new year together discussing resolutions, Grant's: to tell Jemma how he feels, Jemma's: to let him

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Jemma hated New Year's Eve. She hated the excess celebration. They celebrated for the wrong reasons in her opinion. She didn't see the point in making new resolutions, or some big change suddenly brought by a changing date. No, Jemma just saw a new year that could bring new discoveries and opportunities.

It's Skye and constant begging that gets her to join the rest of them at a bar of the city they're in. After a couple of beers, or more in Skye's case, the topic of resolutions is brought up.

Jemma fiddles with the edge of her shirt. She normally doesn't have one. They're a bit mundane for her liking, and honestly, it's just one more thing Jemma has to hold herself too. In the end, no resolutions is the way to go.

This year is different. This year she needs to be held to it, needs someone else to keep her on track. And even though Jemma knows this, she doesn't want it. She doesn't want a resolution to way her down.

May shakes her head when Skye asks. And Jemma envies her for seriousness that gets her out of answering. Skye, Coulson, and Fitz all start talking, and Jemma tunes out the conversation.

She had a resolution. She doesn't want to share it or admit to it. Her eyes meet Ward's for a moment, and Jemma directs her attention across the bar.

"Jemma? Earth to Jemma." Skye sighed, giving a poke to Jemma's cheek till she looked over back at the table.

Jemma blinked at Skye. "What?"

"What's your resolution? Come on," Skye drew out the words leaning closer to Jemma. "What is it? I know you got one."

Jemma shook her head with a sigh. "Nothing, Skye, I don't have one."

"Fitz!" Skye whined. " Make her talk!"

Fitz held up his ends, looking between the two brunettes. "No. I'm not part in this." Coulson laughed at Fitz's reaction. Though, Skye took up a pout.

Skye begged Jemma a few more times till Jemma snapped. "Enough, Skye! Go bother some one else!"

Skye did just that. "Ok, well what about you Ward? The super spy has to have one."

Grant sighed, setting down his beer. He had a light smile on his lips. "Well, I guess mine to be honest."

Skye shook her head, crinkling her nose at him. "That is pathetic. I mean I know you're a robot and all, but seriously that was pathetic. I'm agent Grant Ward, and I'm going to be honest with my feelings this new year." She mocked.

Grant shook his head. "So what? It's true. You are always complaining about me being a robot."

Skye sighed. "Fair enough." She turned back to Jemma. "So? You going to spill the beans yet?"

Jemma shook her head. "There are no beans to spill."

"That's nonsense!" Skye argued. "Come on Simmons! Please."

Jemma rolled her eyes. "Ok. Fine, will you stop complaining like a toddler if I tell you?"

Skye nods with a grin.

"My new year's resolution is to be open to other people."

Skye scoffed. "That is so lousy. The whole lot of you actually," She said waving a finger at all of them, "You all have crappy new year's resolutions."

Jemma's eyes meet Grant's again. She didn't mean other people, she meant him. She knows how he feels. Has known for a while now. It wasn't hard to pick up on the lingering looks or how he went out of his way to cheer her up.

She's afraid of falling for Ward, because that could be more dangerous than falling from the Bus without a parachute. It is more dangerous.

The ball drop approaches along with the famous new year's kiss. It'd be easy, just the brush of her lips against his. Or maybe be something more deep, something that isn't so brief.

But it doesn't happen. As the numbers tick down to the new year, so does her courage. Jemma knows he'll catch her, but she isn't ready to fall yet.

And Jemma regrets it the moment the clock on the screen flashes zero. If she was braver her lips would be on Ward's and not hers. Not Skye's, who too drunk, and Ward who let his guard down for just too long. He pushed her away, genteeler than Jemma would have given him credit for.

His brown eyes found Jemma, and Jemma gave him a thin lipped smile.

She wished she could just get over her fear of falling.

Ward would catch her.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N-Tumblr prompt: Someone from wards past returns or something. Like his older brother or someone

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They didn't get a lot of time off. When they did, Ward and Simmons spent it together. Usually in front of a tv or a with a good book. They stuck things that were relaxing and took little energy. They were in curled up in front of the tv- Jemma had picked a spy movie which meant Ward would point out everything wrong on the spy's end and Jemma would nit picked the errors in the science- when Skye decided enough was enough.

"Hey! We're watching that!" Jemma complained when Skye stepped in front of the couple and turned off the tv.

"No you weren't." Skye shot back. "You were picking the movie apart like a pair of vultures. The both of you have turned into a married couple. It's pathetic."

"Skye, move." Ward spoke up, his tone firm.

"Nope." Skye announced crossing her arms in defiance. "You two are going to do something couple-ly."

"Uh, this is perfectly couple-ly." Jemma retorted. "Till you came and disrupted us."

Skye rolled her eyes. "Couple-ly for a married couple who's kids just left the nest. You're young, go do something that's age appropriate. May said we're here for a few nights. Go out to a dinner and a movie, like a normal couple." She stressed again.

Jemma sighed. "Might as well, Ward, she'll never leave us alone if we don't."

It was still early in the evening when Jemma and Grant left the city's theater hand in hand.

"I think Skye had a point." Jemma laughed turning her head to look up at Grant.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I mean we still ended up watching a movie like normal, but it was fun to get off the Bus. Nice to stretch our legs and get some fresh air."

Grant nodded, "So where to next?"

"Dinner?" Jemma suggested.

"Sure." He nodded again and dropped a kiss to her forehead.

They walked a few blocks hand in hand til they found a smaller family owned restaurant. Jemma let him order for her. When the waitress stopped by with their drinks, she lit the small candle that sat on the middle of the round table.

Jemma laughed when the waitress walked away.

Grant raised his eyebrows at her laugh. "What?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, I guess...this just makes it seem normal. It feels like we're just another couple in a city with normal jobs waiting for them in morning who probably share an apartment."

Grant smiled. "I know. It's a bit odd actually, but I like it."

"Normals nice." Jemma said with a soft sigh.

"Can you imagine it?" She asked, the flickering candle flame casting a slight shadow across her face. "Being normal, having a normal job and all things included."

He was silent for a moment before he shook his head. "I can't. I can't imagine doing something else, I can't even imagine you doing something else. It just seems wrong."

Jemma crinkled her nose. "How is it wrong?"

Grant shrugged. "I don't know...I just...normal doesn't fit. Life would just seem a bit too boring."

Their food arrived before they could continue the conversation. And after a dinner of laughing and joking around, their conversation was forgotten.

"I think I'm going to have to thank Skye for this." Ward laughed, pulling Jemma closer, a hand around her waist, as he guided her down the side walk.

"So, no 20 extra push ups in the morning?" She joked.

"What?" Grant questioned.

Jemma shook her head at him. "Every time Skye does something you deem wrong, she gets punished with extra push ups or some form of physical activity."

Grant scoffed, "I do not."

Jemma rolled her eyes, but her expression turned serious. "Grant, did you hear that?"

He nodded, turning his head to search for the noise. There was another scream.

"Stay here." Grant told her before running running towards the source of the noise.

"Grant!" Jemma yelled after him. Like hell she was just going to stay put.

It wasn't hard to find him or rather find the noise of the pained grunting and cries. Jemma knelt down by the young girl huddled against the wall. She was fine, more scared than anything. Jemma turned around to see Ward still beating on the man who, from the looks of it, caused the screams.

"Ward." Jemma spoke calmly and gently. "Come on he's had enough."

"Grant!" Jemma screamed at him when he ignored her, so focused on the guy who was now sporting a bloody face. It still wasn't enough. Jemma pulled on his shoulder. "Enough, Ward. He's had enough." She repeated. It was true, the guy had passed out.

"Come on." Jemma urged, hearing the sirens, they could take care of it.

They were quiet as they walked huddled together to the Bus. Jemma knew not to bother him when he got like this, emitting a silent rage. It was best to let him calm him self down.

"Who was he?" Jemma asked gently after a while of silence.

"My older brother." He left it at that, shrugged away from Jemma's grasp.

He was up late, firing punches at the bag Jemma knew were meant for his brother. She didn't say anything, just left a cup of tea for him for he was done or too exhausted to keep going.


	3. Bright and Bubbly

A/N-This kind of ran away from me. Opps. Anoymous prompted : hostage situation. Which was just a bit vague hence the run away story that turned out way longer than I thought it would be.

* * *

"Can you believe it's just a week away?" Jemma asked with a bright smile.

That smile, bright and bubbly. He's always loved that smile regardless to who it's aimed towards. He loved it even more when it's aimed towards him. When it's just for him and no one else. His own personal wealth of sunshine. When he's the only one meant to see the bright bubbly smiles that grace her lips.

"No." Grant answered, moving to kiss the top of her head. "Not at all." She smiles again and goes back to the book she's reading.

There are times when he doubted that they could happy. Happiness in his life was usually a joke. Not that he didn't want to be happy, but being happy with other people just didn't happen often. It didn't help that he closed himself off to most of it. A life of living alone was what he accepted as his fate.

The thing about Jemma's smile, was that they were infectious. When she smiled, you wanted to smile back, and Grant did. He always tried to smile back even if their circumstances were grim, even when her smile wasn't as bright as it should be. Because when she smiled you smiled too. It became a fact in Grant's life.

With her by his side, Grant imagined a happy ending. With or without SHIELD, most likely with it, but definitely with Jemma.

"What do we do?" She asked, waking Grant up from the light sleep he had just fallen into.

"About what?" He asked, an arm wrapping around the chemist's waist. Her head came to rest on his chest a moment later.

"Well, you know, what are we going to after well you know?"

Grant laughed. She didn't say the word often. She didn't like saying it, she thought it made less real. "I don't know." He answered after a long thought.'

"What do you want to do?"

Grant sighed. He didn't want to have this conversation now. He wanted to sleep. "I don't know, honestly. I haven't given much thought about it."

Jemma scoffed. "Well, that's nice to hear."

Grant rolled his eyes. "I think we've both had enough on our hands to really think about it. We'll have plenty of time after 'you know' to think about it. A whole week to ourselves." He smiled.

"I'm not leaving SHIELD." Jemma said, the lack of sleep creeping into her voice.

"Never said you had to." He said with a smile. "Good night." He added with a softer tone.

"Love you." She yawned.

"Love you too."

"Holocomm in five." May announced as she passed the couple. There was a slight roll of her eyes at the sight of them.

They got a lot of those. Skye started faking puking noises if they were particularly affectionate towards each other. Coulson was the only one who didn't roll their eyes at them. He usually just smiled, though, sometimes he did shake his head.

It's simple enough. It's a science op, intel only. Observation and sample collecting. He's gotten more protective of Jemma since they've been together. There's always been a certain level of protectiveness and it's only grown. And it grew now knowing he wouldn't be there for her.

"I'll catch you if-" He said as he adjusted the comm in her ear.

"I know." Jemma smirked. "I fall. I'll see you when I get back."

"Of course I will." Because there is no other option. She's coming back.

"Love you." She said before kissing his cheek and with another smile she disappeared into the car with May.

He smiled just because she smiled. And that's what you do when she smiled, you smiled back. There's a thought, the kind of thought that betrays everything. Whisperdc the things you don't want to hear.

And it whispered a thought that always kept him up. What if something happened? What if the bright and bubbly smiling chemist didn't come back? And it felt like it was screaming.

Grant swallowed. It was a thought, nothing more. It was a thought that didn't belong. A fear that didn't quite belong, but would always been in his thoughts whether he liked it or not. If he was with her right now it wouldn't be so loud. It was always quiet when he was with her, but now it was screaming.

He paced around the table where the others hovered over it. He shouldn't be so nervous. Intel only. It isn't high risk. And May's there with her. And she'll protect her. Still , his worry didn't ease.

"She'll be fine." Coulson said in a reassuring tone.

Fitz and Skye nodded. They were staying quiet too, both worried, but none of them admitted to it.

May updated them as it she went. Small bits of information, though, better than nothing. They helped eased his worry, because it meant Jemma was fine. She didn't have a direct line to the Bus. If someone, and the wrong someone, grabbed her they'd figure out quickly who she was from it. Jemma was patched in with May; she was in safe hands. Even if his thoughts were betraying him now. Every worse possibility flashing by in his head.

"Simmons?" May's voice crackled through the comm.

Everyone stiffened at her voice, all on high alert. Keeping quiet for May's sake.

"She's just wondered off." Skye offered, but her heart wasn't in the lie.

"Simmons, come in!"

There's a long silence filled with tense shoulders and the background noise coming from May's comm.

"Simmons!" There's something different in May's voice. It's firm as usual, but there's something else, something you never want to here coming from her: worry.

Her next words, spoken with more firmness and control, don't offer any comfort. "Coulson I need immediate support. Contact HQ, they need to be made aware of this. We need trackers up, and a search party. Black van, no plates. Pull up satellite, the nearest highway goes south. They...they took her. They took Simmons, sir."

He doesn't react. Not in the way people would expect. No flash of movement or harsh words come from him. He stood still and silent. In shock, that's what Jemma would say if she was here.

But she isn't.

Grant's only vaguely aware of the hurried voices shouting back and fourth. The scramble over the holotable to pull of satellite images and tacking.

He tunes into Coulson's voice for the most part. He listens as he calls HQ, and arranges what must be done. Coulson doesn't take no for an answer. Command doesn't want to send personal to help in the search. Coulson wins out on the promise of a favor that was made long ago with who ever is on the other end of the conversation.

There's a light touch to his shoulder. "Ward?" It was Skye. "May just got back. She's in the lab." She said softly.

Grant looked up from the spot he was staring at for the last hour. The room is empty except for them. His shock dissipates as he thunders down the stairs.

It would be a comical sight if the circumstances. A scowl was permanent on May's face as she sat on the table in the lab and let Coulson fuss over her as Fitz cleared away the bloody gauze and unwanted items from Coulson's reach.

May could clean up herself, maybe not the gash by her ear, but the shoulder she could deal with. She lets Coulson fuss over her because there's no Simmons to fuss over.

"I'm sorry, Ward. I tried too get to her. They were too fast. If the girl had just stayed by my side like I ordered we wouldn't be in this mess!" The outburst isn't exactly like May, but it's not surprising considering what situation they're in.

"What do we now? I don't care how it happened right now. I just want to do something about this now." He asked trying to keep his tone neutral, trying to not show that this was driving him mad, stirring up anger he had fought so hard to keep down. That Jemma had helped him tuck it away. He was stuck here while Jemma, his precious chemist, was out there scared and alone.

May shoot him a dark look. "You didn't tell him." She said dryly to Coulson.

"What?" The anger over the situation was finally creeping into his voice. Grant didn't try to push it down or away. "What didn't you tell me?" He demanded after no one answered his question.

"We can't do anything." Coulson answered with a sigh. "_You_ can't do anything. The only way the rest of SHIELD involved themselves was if we sat this one out and let them work."

He was fuming. Grant grit his teeth, punching something was a very good idea right now. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but there was a rage building. There was always a growing rage in him since the staff, but Jemma helped settle the rage. She distracted it. There was no chemist to distract him now. There was a chemist, his chemist, in danger, hurt, scared, lonely, and it fueled the flames that burned constantly.

His hands are sore. Muscles scream out in protest. He fired out another punch at the bag. And another, and another. Grant didn't care if it hurt, if his body screamed out in protest.

Grant had promised herself he would always protect her and the others. That's what he did, that's what he's always done.

He was supposed to catch her. If. If, that stupid word, he hated it now. She was falling and he couldn't be there to catch her.

He had promised.

Grant held the ring in his rough hands.

It wasn't much of a wedding band. It was simple with inlaid diamonds. Jemma had loved it when she say it. Naturally, because she loved it, Grant loved it too.

Today was the day.

Was the _day_.

If things were normal, if everything had just gone like they should have gone, he'd be getting ready. He would have probably been trying to keep his composure as Fitz smirked at the rarely nervous Ward.

But that isn't the case. Grant's sitting alone in a chair in one of the lounges. It's one of the few places that doesn't scream Jemma. That doesn't make memories scream back at him.

It's hard to escape Jemma Simmons.

Being benched was not sitting with him well. He barely talked to anybody unless it was important Oddly enough, silence was the only thing keeping him sane. If barely eating, sleeping, and working out too much qualified as sane.

The team kept their distance. His silence was usually interrupted if there was an update. It didn't happen often, though, there were barely any updates. The other team working the case had only just figured out for sure who it was that took her. A type of terrorist group, not as extreme as you would think when using that term, had taken her.

There was no proof of life. No ransom or crazy demand for exchange of the scientist.

All signs pointed to her being dead. Grant didn't dwell on those thoughts, tried not to at least.

Their only hope was for them to get cocky and mess up.

"Guys! Uh, you need to see this!"

The screeching command from Skye worried him. He headed to the holocomm, that's where it came from.

He stopped dead in his tracks. There she was. She wasn't really here, but there on the screen.

There on the screen so close, but too far. Her eyes were closed, and her face was raw from crying. Blood and dirt in varying degrees covered her face, and there was a nasty bruise blooming across her right eye.

"Oh god, Jemma." He whispered. She was alive, broken and bruised, and bound to a chair. But she was alive. Every rise and fall of her chest was a sign of life.

"How did you get this?" Ward asked, glancing at the hacker.

She smirked with pride, though, it was evident she was upset over the state that Jemma was in. "It was simple really. Track spending and what not, and well that's not important. We need to get home. She doesn't look good."

They all turned towards Coulson.

"We send in an extraction team."

It takes a bit of convincing, but Grant wins out in the end. He argued to till he got his way, though, not completely. He wanted to run the op. It settled the worry about the situation if he had control of what was happening and when. He has experience too.

The SHIELD agent running the investigation refuses Grant's request. He refuses even Grant's presence. It isn't till Coulson steps in and sets it up so that Grant will be allowed on the op, he'll be the one actually getting Jemma, the heavy lifting is up to the rest of the team.

The worry in his stomach is eased by the fact that he'll be the one to see Jemma first. He'll be the one to get her out of there.

It's hard to give most of the control to someone else, but he did it anyway. He had to be there for Jemma, he had to be the one that he saw first.

"All clear, Agent Ward. You have ten minutes at best." The ordered snapped across the comm.

There's two guards waiting out side the door. It's no trouble to take them out. The door isn't an issue either. His senses are high alert, ear listening as his eyes searched for Jemma. Everything was to easy so far. Nothing was ever easy.

"Jemma." It was spoken in a light tone, as if any louder would break him. Maybe it would.

"Come on, Jemma." He whispered, his gun drawn and ready for the worst. She was supposed to be in here. The darkness and largeness of the damp room wasn't helping. Too many blind spots with from disregarded machines left in ruins.

Grant stopped in his tracks when his eyes swept across her. It was worse than seeing her bound to that chair. Way worse in his opinion. Jemma wasn't alone like the last time. It would be better if she was. It would be better if there wasn't a knife pressing against the pale delicate skin of her throat and tears sliding down her cheeks. And aiming a gun of his own at Grant.

"Gun down!" The person holding the knife ordered. Grant didn't lower it. No way was he going to play into the others hands.

The person, man to be exact, stepped out more into the light to reveal his identity still using Jemma as a shield. If he wanted some show of recognition to show on Grant's face, he wasn't getting one. Grant didn't recognize him, though, there was something odd about him. He didn't dwell on that thought with Jemma in the position she was in.

"You're probably wondering why now? Why kidnap her and not hold ransom?" He asked with an all to pleased smile on his face.

Grant _was_ wondering. "I have a feeling you're going to tell me any way." Grant answered sourly.

"Of course I am!" He said, holding the knife firmer against Jemma's skin causing her to cry out. Grant cringed at the sound, but he held his stance firm.

"I bet you thought I missed up. But did I really? I suppose I didn't have to wait as long as I did, but Ms. Simmons is such a lovely thing. Shame for her to be marrying you out of all the people on this Earth." Jemma struggled against his grip resulting in a thin trickle of blood from her neck.

Calm down, Grant urged in his thoughts.

"Before I go on, call the others off. I know they're waiting. It'd be a shame to spill more even blood of hers."

Grant complied. So much for not playing into his hands.

"As I was saying; it was quite easy to create a trail. Did you really think it went one way?"

"Then why did you let me get to this point? What do you want?!"

"Because, I needed to get to you. So, this is what I'm going to guarantee: no matter what happens, I will walk away from this. Now, maybe, just maybe, the chemist can walk too. So put down the gun agent Ward."

"Grant, don't do it! He'll kill you!"

Grant wished it wasn't Jemma's hurt pleading voice that brought things to focus. It was right before Paris, it was actually what led them to Paris in the process. The person in front of him with Jemma was the suspects brother, Zeke Douglass. His brother didn't make it to SHIELD's custody, he had pulled a gun and Grant reacted.

So this was how Douglass was getting his revenge.

"Jemma, I love you." He said it with meaning and loud enough for her to hear.

"No!" She didn't struggle against the hand that held her. "Come on, Grant! There has to be another way. There is another way!"

Jemma was right. He didn't want her to be because there was another way. But there was a chance they could both walk away from this, he had to take it.

She nodded at him. Grant changed his aim- wished she wasn't being held the way she was because there was no way to not hit her- and fired.

He yelled commands into his comm as he ran to her. He kicked the gun away from Douglass ,who was in no condition to move for it, before dropping to knees by Jemma's side.

She was crying and she had every right to be. "Shh." He said as he applied pressure to where she was bleeding. It was lower than he thought it would be.

"I-I'm s-sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault. Just keep your eyes open for me. Keep talking too. Can you do that?" He swept a few stray strands of hair away from her eyes.

She nodded weakly.

"Jems, I need you to talk."

She didn't answer.

"Jemma."

"Jemma!"

There was a day when he thought he'd see the bright and bubbly with a white gown. A day with their families, mainly her's, and their friends. A day to exchange vows, but they know they don't need them to make it official. It had been official for so long.

There was a day when he thought they'd share more than a bed, more than a moment. A day where the bunk is just too small. A day where they agree that they need a place of their own. A house or an apartment, it doesn't matter. It just had to be home.

There was a day when he thought about family. A family, though that doesn't mean kids. It just means together, and maybe some fish. Or a dog, she's always wanted a dog. Maybe, just maybe, he thought about having a kid, kids. It was a long shot, but it was there in the back of his minds. He didn't think he could be a father, no matter how many times she'd disagree, but she would make a great, wonderful, mother. Her smile, bright and bubbly, would say I-love-you and chase away the monsters under the bed.

There was a day, many days in fact, when he thought about that smile, bright and bubbly.

There was a fear that he wouldn't see it again except for his memories.

Bright and bubbly.

It lights up the room. And it shouldn't. It shouldn't because the hospital room is bright enough with it's white clean walls and glaring lights. And it shouldn't because her lips are too cracked. And she looks like hell, bruised face and tired eyes.

But it does, it brings warmth into the cold room. Because her smiles are always bright and bubbly even if she's not.

"Love you." She whispered with a hoarse voice.

"Love you too." He answered, squeezing her hand he's been holding like a life line.

"I think I missed the wedding." Jemma attempted a laugh, though it looked like it pained her. Which it probably did.

"It doesn't mater. The groom will be waiting no matter what." And Grant smiled, bright and bubbly.


	4. Doctor

"Simmons?" Grant called from some where distant. A few wide rooms away from her it seemed.

Jemma cringed with her hands shaking. There was always an option of getting hurt on and off the Bus. She just hadn't expected it to happen. Then again, no one was expecting to be ambushed. Not at all. She certainly wasn't expecting the pain in her thigh or the blood.

"Simmons? Hold your position. I'll collect you when it's clear. If I don't come in thi-." There was a long pause. "Thirty minutes," He repeated, "Activate the panic button. It should over ride what ever they did to the comms. May or Coulson will be able to get you. Not a moment sooner. We can't risk them either." His voice was even farther now, and Jemma strained to catch the last sentence or so.

Jemma nodded to herself. She didn't bother shouting back that she understood. It wouldn't stop him from what ever he was doing if she didn't understand. There were still the people who ambushed them out there. She was not going to call attention to herself. Her death would be for sure then.

The most injuries she had ever sustained were minor things. Scrapes and bruises. The worse being the small burn on her forearm from a lab incident, and a bruised rib. Not counting the illness from the virus. Jemma never really thought about other injuries, or rather the only one that crossed her mind most frequently was getting shot. Now, she was glad it wasn't a gun shot that was causing the bleeding, but a wound from some sharp piece of metal wasn't much better.

Her hands were shaking as they probed her left thigh. From what she could tell from her ruined jeans and dim lighting, the cut was a bit longer than her hand. About a few centimeters longer. It wasn't too deep, but enough that it wasn't a minor scratch she could just ignore.

She breathed out a sigh of relief, in terms on injuries it was alright. Of course it had been a fairly avoidable injury. If she hadn't tripped by the pile of scrap jagged edged medal that was just teeming with infections, well then she wouldn't currently have her back pressed against the wall and hands slick with blood. It wasn't even an impressive injury, if such a thing existed. It wasn't the type of injury one would brag about. No, it was the type of injury that you were embarrassed by when people brought it up.

Ward and her had split from May and Coulson with his suggestion of the action. Skye, back on the Bus, with Fitz, had just previously alerted them of what appeared to be more heat signatures before their transmissions had been cut. Both May and Coulson had agreed with Ward's suggestion.

At first, Jemma just assumed it was a false alarm on Skye's part. Half an hour in with Ward and no one else showed up, but fifteen minutes later Jemma was cursing herself for thinking, hoping, too soon. Then Ward was shouting orders to run and hide somewhere. Which, she had listened to.

In the madness of running and then stupidly dropping her torch, Jemma tripped against the metal pile that had seemingly appeared out of no where. Maybe if she hadn't dropped her torch, Jemma would've seen and avoided the pile.

There was no scientific way to go back and avoid the injury, may as well actually tend to it and find a different hiding spot. Jemma flinched and squeezed her eyes shut at the noise of feet slapping against the floor. When the sound faded away, she let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. Change of plans, hiding spot first, and then tending to the cut.

Her eyes darted around the room searching for a spot close by. Jemma didn't feel comfortable leaving the room. Luckily, she didn't have to, her eyes landed on a heap of metal. A bit ironic, but it would do.

A gasp of pain left her lips as she pushed herself to a standing position. It hurt as she limped over to the other side of the room and settled herself behind the stack of metal. The medi-kit thumped against the floor once she pushed the strap from her shoulder.

It wasn't long till the wound was clean. Jemma leaned her head against the wall, glad that she could. Stitches. That's what she needed. She expelled a long breath at the thought. She had never done it to herself. A few people at the Academy had the bright idea of practicing on themselves, but Jemma had stuck the using fruit like a normal person. Maybe she should have.

Her hands were shaking too much. A few deep breaths and her hands weren't exactly steady, but close enough. She hissed at the pain. Just keep going. She sang it in her thoughts like Dory till she was half way finished and had to stop because the shaking resumed.

"Steady girl."

Another few breaths later and Jemma went back to stitching. It hurt, but it wasn't horrible. She dropped all the supplies back into the kit when she done. There and done.

"Look at that, all done." She gave a fake smile at the stitching before placing a few layers of gauze. "Not too shabby."

Ten minutes passed by with nothing to do. Not even an indication on where or what Ward was doing. Twenty minutes to go. She really didn't want to wait twenty minutes. Or even consider the panic button.

She picked up the needle and thread on a whim, passing the time by fixing the rip in her jeans. A bit wasteful, but there was enough of it back in the lab thanks to Ward constantly coming back with torn flesh and bleeding wounds.

Besides, Jemma didn't want Ward worried about her. He worried too much already. Even though he thought she couldn't tell.

"Simmons?" Ward called.

Jemma jumped at her nose. "Ward?" She called back.

"It's safe." He told her. "Come on. Skye got the comms working. They'll be here in five for us."

Jemma hesitated to get up and reveal herself.

"Simmons?" There was a note of worry in his voice. "Are you hurt?"

"No, no!" Jemma blurted and quickly standing up. She regretted the quick action. "I'm fine. I'm not hurt. I'm perfectly alright." Jemma made her way over to him trying her best to hide the limp.

With his hands lightly on her shoulders, he gave her a once over. "You sure?"

Jemma nodded.

"Ok." He said gently. "Let's get out of here."

***  
She's surprised to not have too stitch Ward up. He bruised a rib and a few other places, but it's better than his usual list of injuries. Jemma retires to her bunk earlier than she would normally. It's easy to brush Fitz off the with the excuse of exhaustion. It's not that far either, she is exhausted.

Jemma slides off her jeans with ease to reveal the bandage of gauze. It's peeled away so that she can inspect her handiwork. It's not as neat or pretty as she usually does it for Ward. Though, that's a bit of a wasted effort when he constantly rips them despite her obvious dislike for it.

There's a knock against the door, and Jemma makes a point to ignore. All she wants is peace and quiet. Surely, they could respect that.

The knocking stopped again, but started up after a short pause.

"Simmons, I know you're in there."

Ward, of course it's him.

"I'd like to be alone."

"Simmons."

"Ward."

" I want to talk. I'm coming in."

"It's locked!" Jemma knew a locked door was not a barrier to him. And it turned out she was right. The door opened as she tried and failed to pull her jeans back up. There's no hiding the gauze on her thigh.

He set his jaw at the injury. "I thought you weren't hurt?" He said it with a surprising amount of accusation.

"I said I was fine."

He sighed at her. "What are we going to do with you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shook his head at her. "It's ok to be hurt."

"I didn't say it wasn't."

"Simmons..."

"Oh, don't Simmons me Ward! If it was something serious I would have let you known."

"Still, you didn't have to hide it from me and play doctor on yourself."

"Well, I didn't have to practice seeing as I get enough of it on you."

He gave a light laugh at that. "I guess you do. Just- don't do it again. I can help, you know? I didn't have you before when I worked by myself."

Jemma laughed. "What did you do with out me?"

"I suffered a lot, plus no one else as SHIELD has your bedside manner."

"Ah! So I don't have man hands like Fitz said." Ward frowned at the mention of him, but it went unnoticed by her.

"So? You wanted to talk, what about?"

Ward shook his head. "Nothing. I- just. Please, don't hide it again."

Jemma nodded. "Well, if you don't mind, I'd like some peace and queit."

He nodded and made his way from her bunk silently.

For a scientist Jemma could be absolutely clueless.


	5. Children of the Bus

It'd be funny, if it wasn't.

His first thought is to find May. It's been dark on the Bus for only a few minutes now at least it had been that way when he woke, she'd know what was going on. Grant thought back to the incident with old Hyrda tech, they may have fallen into a similar trap. Again.

No one's tied up or passed out, and there isn't a gaping hole in the plane's side. The two agents they picked up could quite possibly have nothing to do with the dark lounge he was making his way across. Their from SHIELD, it's unlikely that they did this. Highly unlikely, almost impossible. Yet there's a worry at the bottom of Ward's stomach, no one else has said anything about the black out. There's no sound anywhere.

He swallowed the uneasy feeling. A high stress job with the necessity of keeping focus always turned on him at times like this. It had made him paranoid, and that was rising now. Grant held his side arm in front of him as he walked slow careful steps forward.

Grant didn't cross paths with any one. Sure, there were other levels to the plane, but it was highly unlikely that he wouldn't at least run into one person. He didn't bother with pleasantries, and opened the cock pit's door with out a knock.

A quick scan of the empty cock pit confirmed his fear. May was gone, presumably taken because there was no way she wouldn't be bent over controls right now. On the bright side, auto-pilot was on and appeared to be functioning just fine. It was the small things in these situations that kept him going. Hope for the big things and you get bad things instead. Hope for smaller things, and things work out a bit better. Or you're not as crushed when those little things fall through.

May and Coulson could take of them selves. They'd figure it out with out Ward, and for now they would. His worry was on the other three: Skye, Fitz, and Simmons. They're practically children from being so defenseless.

Skye was in her bunk the last time he checked, his best bet was to check there first. The door opened with ease. The bright side, if there could be one, was that she's there, and not missing like May. The down side is that she's unconscious. Not from her own will, but from a blow to the head causing the small trickle of blood from her forehead. He hoisted her over his shoulder easily and deposited her into one of the seats and buckled her in. One down, two to go.

Ward gave her another check over, besides the head she was fine. He isn't a fan of leaving her alone, but he couldn't exactly drag her behind him as he searched the Bus. Though, he clipped one of the radios on her and grabbed one for himself and Simmons or Fitz.

Simmons, she could be hurt, he doesn't even think about the other possibility. She'd be down in the lab alongside Fitz. Grant paused by the stairs to Coulson's office. It wouldn't hurt to check, but that would mean leaving Je-Simmons down there with no protection. At the very least the Night-Night gun is down there.

His was door ajar when his fingers went to the door knob, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Not good, not good, not good. The beam of light from his flashlight revealed an empty office.

"Dammit!"

May or Coulson would've found him by now. They would've met and discussed what was happening. Skye wouldn't be unconscious.

The pieces clicked in place. Coulson had been off when the two other agents came on the Bus. He hadn't given a reason before, but there was a distrust in his eyes. May was in on it, at least that's what he suspected at the time. Or it was just wishful thinking that the two senior agents knew what was going on.

"Simmons! Fitz!" He shouted, flying down the stairs.

They're like children on a school bus. Helpless with out their leaders. Easy pickings.

A sigh of relief left his lips when he found her. It was gone when he realized she's bent down over a body. Not a body, Fitz.

"Simmons. What happened?" He asked as he crouched besides her.

She cradled Fitz's head gently in her hands.

"I don't know, I don't know. They had Coulson and May. T-They weren't acting like themselves. I think they're still here. Why is it dark? Is the plane going down again? They knocked Fitz unconscious. They hit me too, but I'm alright for the most part. What about Skye? Is she alright? I think they want us divided. It looks like they're trying to kill us." She spoke a mile a minute, and when she looked up his heart stopped.

Blood was dry under her nose, and bruise blossomed across her right eye and cheek. "Simmons, what happened?" He asked softly.

"They punched me, isn't it obvious?"

Leave it to her to use that tone of hers in this type of situation. "Your wrist." He pointed out, grabbing it gently, it was coloring with a bruise.

"I think they may have locked Coulson and May in one of the storage closets. I don't know, I was a bit disoriented before." She added, pulling her wrist away.

He nodded. "What about the them?"

"I don't know. They just sort of disappeared."

"Come on." He ordered and helped her up. "I'll help you two upstairs and get strapped in. What ever happens you stay there." Grant explained as her handed her the radio.

"Grant?" He stiffened at the use of his first name. She had never said it before and it only increased his worry.

"How long does auto-pilot last? Doesn't it need someone to keep an eye on it, keep answering those security questions to keep it running."

"Shit." Because Simmons was right like she usually was. It was one of the reasons May was constantly in the cock-pit. Questions popped up to make sure the person was still alert or there to answer them. You could only go so long until skipping questions shut the program off. It was a stupid SHIELD protocol.

He wasted no time in slinging the unconscious rocket scientist on his shoulder and grabbing Simmons's forearm, pulling her with him.

Grant didn't know how often the questions popped up, but he knew only three could go unanswered. If they were lucky, they would have only missed the second or the first one. That was also assuming he, or possibly Simmons, could answer it. Which with his ever worsening head ache, he was now doubting that ability.

"Strap in!" He yelled at her already noticing the slight shift in the plane's direction. His fingers fumbled as he tried to do the belt for Fitz. Grant glanced back over at Simmons who had strapped herself in. "Dammit." The stupid pieces weren't clicking together.

"I got it!" Simmons said now besides him, her hands pushing his aside. "Go! I can finish! See if you can get auto-pilot back online!"

He hesitated, Grant couldn't just leave her alone. Couldn't leave the rest of them alone.

"Grant, go." She didn't shout it this time, but was firm in her order.

He nodded turning away from the chemist. "Be careful." Grant said turning just briefly to say it to her, but the words were ripped from his mouth as the world shifted, as screaming filled his ears. She never did strap herself in.

His world went black.


End file.
